Running Girl
by Goscar
Summary: I've been running all my short life, caught between running away or towards something. Right now I'm doing both; I'm running away from some people who want to kill me and towards someone who can help me. I just hope he was joking about keeping heads in the fridge... [Set after The Empty Hearse but before The Sign of Three.]
1. Chapter 1

If you were to visit London you'd probably expect to see a few things that are on every tourists list:

\- red bus

\- red telephone box

\- the T.A.R.D.I.S (actually you're better off looking in Cardiff)

What you wouldn't expect to see is a young girl drenched in blood running for her life through the backstreets and alleys.

That's me by the way. Hello. But don't worry it's not my blood (for once). Apart from grazed knuckles I'm ok; physically at least, mentally… well let's not go there…

I've been running for what feels hours even though I know it only to be a few minutes. My heartbeat and footsteps seem to be in a race against each other, my heart is winning, it's beating out a drum beat my feet will never keep up with.

I sprint down a cobbled road, the stones; worn smooth by forgotten footsteps, shine in the yellow glow of the streetlamps. I run blindly, the backs of the surrounding buildings funnel me like smoke through a chimney, guiding me onwards.

It will be dawn soon. I have to get to…

 _BANG!_

A bullet collides with a bin next to me. They're using silencers to avoid getting caught. Even the noise of the bin being used as target practise won't raise suspicion; people will just think it's hungry Foxes.

I reach the end of the road and dart right. I need to divert them, so I take the obvious route; towards market street where sellers should be setting up their stalls. They'll think I'll try and go somewhere crowded, where I think they won't dare to hurt me with so many witnesses around. But I know better, they'll just take me when no one is looking. So I keep running the obvious route until I see an alleyway hidden behind a skip, I dart into it and become one with the shadows.

I wait. My heartbeat is deafening and the darkness is blinding. I look towards the end of the alley and see a sliver of light, I don't know where it leads to but I can only hope it's close to where I need to be. Careful not to make sound I hurry forwards, I trace the wall with my finger tips feeling my way towards the light.

I emerge on a quiet street drenched in morning light. Careful not to give myself away I crouch down and pull my hood up. I look down the pavement searching for any signs or landmarks I can use to find out my location, but instead I am drawn to a red sun-faded canopy hanging over a shop front. He said he lived next to a café… Before I have time to think it though I stand up and walk towards it, hoping beyond hope that this is the place. I draw closer and see that it is indeed a café, I look beyond it and find a black door with the address 221b in gold nailed to its front.

I run up the steps and hammer the door as hard as I can, nearly pulling the knocker off its hinges. I begin kicking the bottom of the door adding a low thud to the cacophony. Just before I attempt shouting through the letterbox I nearly fall inwards as someone pulls open the door.

"What on earth…" It's an old woman wearing a pink dressing gown, she looks angry and shocked all at once.

I hold up my shaking hands and pull down my hood so she can see my face.

" _Please_ …" I croak. " _I need help_ … "


	2. Chapter 2

She looks at me for a few stunned seconds before opening the door wider to let me in. I step into a wooden floored hallway with a staircase running along the wall, it's dark but warm and homely.

The woman who let me in looks at me with worry, I'm not surprised I must look like a bloodied mess. "It looks worse than it is, I promise" she smiles a little but I can tell she's still concerned. She is about to speak when a voice from upstairs echoes down. "Mrs Hudson! When you are done talking with my client please send them up!" I can't help but smile, it's definitely him.

The women who I now know as Mrs Hudson turns towards me. "Don't worry dear, what he lacks in manners he makes up for in brains" she smiles reassuringly. I nod her my thanks and head up the stairs.

I reach a wooden landing and find a door a jar, I open it and step into perhaps the most peculiar living room I have ever seen; books and paper are strewn everywhere, the furniture and wallpaper are all mismatched yet seem peacefully at odds with each other. I don't have time to take in rest of the room as I notice a man with his back turned to me tuning a violin. "In your apparent desperate attempt to gain my attention I am guessing your problem is a serious one so please start from the beginning and _don't_ be dull… " he turns and finally looks at me. "Seren… " He looks like he's seen a ghost. "I thought you were dead…" I might as well be.

"Look who's talking" I say. He smirks but it's gone in the fraction of a second.

He looks at me again, I know he's trying to read me, to deduce every little thing that has happened since he last saw me, but the information is hidden by the blood that now sticks to my clothes. He knows it's not mine. Smart arse.

"What are you doing here?"

"I need your help…" He begins pacing the room. "It's the Natuk gang, they're after the codes. I've ran from them across Europe trying to divert them until you were back in London, I couldn't go to anyone else for help because I didn't know who was on their side, I tried to contact you but I was worried I'd give away what I was planning to do and they'd find me."

"But they've found you here in London?"

"Yes… But it could be any number of people they deal with."

"They'll guess you've come to me surely"

"I doubt they really know who you are, they just thought I had befriended some bloke with good connections to the British government, it won't have dawned on them to check who you really are especially with you being ' _dead'_ at the time"

He placed his hands under his chin s if in prayer. "But now they're desperate to find you they'll be checking all the known bolt holes and associates of your family…"

"It will take days to search the safe houses and my families _associates_ are dangerous people who no one in their right mind wants to cross."

"So that leaves us with a few days to dismantle an international crime ring…"

"Pretty much…But then you have done it before." I say honestly.

"That took two years! Not two days!"

"Well you've already done it once so doing it a second time shouldn't take so long!" He looks at me as if words can't express how idiotic I sound to him, so before he has a chance to find those words I speak for him. "They're a _mini_ crime _syndicate_ , you'll have longer than _two days,_ you can work out in the open now that you're ' _not dead'_ and most importantly you have…"

"An opportunity to decline the case?" Sarcastic bastard.

"No. You have me." I smile.

"A teenager who happens to be a on one of Europe's most dangerous gangs hit list?"

"Well yes and…"

"Great we'll use you as bait." He says as he collapses into a leather chair.

"Oi! That's not what I meant." I look at him and realise he's lost in his thoughts, he'll

probably be like this for hours. I sigh and look down at the floor. "Please Sherlock… I don't have anyone else to turn to…"

"Sleep"

"What?"

"It's going to be a busy couple of days, you'll need all the rest you can get." He says rising from his chair.

"You'll take the case?" I say smiling.

"Please an international crime ring after secret codes, wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Really?"

"Yes, I thought I made myself quite clear…" I hug him before he as time to finish.

"Thank you"

He pats me on the back awkwardly.

I let go. "I forgot how emotionally constipated you are" I say yawning.

"I've just accepted your case and now you're insulting me?" He says in mock outrage.

"Yep. Miss me?" I say heading towards the sofa.

" _Sleep_ "

"Yes _Sir!"_ I give him my best mock salute as a collapse onto the sofa. I close my heavy eyes and smile, I'm safe now. I let my tiredness ebb over my body like the sea. Not having to worry about being found and too exhausted for nightmares to wake me, I sink further and further into black sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake to the sound of whispered arguing. "Christ Sherlock, she's just a kid!" It's a man's voice, I keep my eyes closed and listen in.

"She's covered in blood…" He sounds so concerned.

"It's not hers" It's Sherlock, he's abandoned whispering.

"How do _you_ know that?"his raised voice sounds angry.

"She wasn't in pain when she came here last night, if she was badly injured she would have said" Sherlock replies in monotone.

"Why didn't you call me to check?"

"It _wasn't_ necessary"

"Wasn't necessary?! Oh I'm sorry I forgot that you have a medical degree too!"

"You two would make a great couple" I sit up and smile. "You're John, right?" Sherlock said he lived with a Doctor.

He looks confused "You're awake?"

"She has been for the last few minutes" Says Sherlock.

"I wondered why you stopped whispering" I hug my knees and realise someone has placed a blanket over me.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I look back at John and shrug. "I wanted to know who you were and why you were arguing"

His mouth hangs open briefly "How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen, I'm guessing Sherlock told you why I'm here"

He looks back at Sherlock and then to me "He said you were on the run from a gang but not much else."

"I was interrupted by your concern for her well-being" unsurprisingly it turns out that was the wrong thing for Sherlock to say.

" _SHE'S COVERED IN BLOOD HOW CAN I NOT BE CONCERNED!"_ John shouts gesturing towards me.

Not wanting to start another fight, I stand up and try to reassure John "I'm okay, honestly, I'm bruised and grazed at most" I say lightheartedly.

He scans over me with a Doctor's eyes and finds nothing. "If it's not your blood then whose is it?"

My expression falls and my heart sinks as I look at the floor, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I am about to say _he got in the way… I couldn't save him…_ but Sherlock interrupts. "I think she's been through enough for one day, don't you John?"

He looks taken back by Sherlock's sudden concern; it takes me by surprise too.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" He stutters.

"It's fine" I reply a bit too quickly to be convincing. They both pause where they stand, I must look so vulnerable to them, it's as if they see me as a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment. But I'm not a doll, and I don't break that easily.

"Did you get any further with the Natuk gang?" I ask in an effort to lessen the awkwardness that now hangs in the room.

Sherlock steps forward "Only that they're expanding their business actions into weapons trafficking but everytime I get close to finding out exactly what they're doing they disappear"

"Just brilliant." I sigh

"Sorry the _Natuk_ gang?" John asks.

"It means _shadow_ gang they're operate their own black market all other Europe" I reply trying to get him up to speed.

"And they're after you?"

I nod "They're after some _very_ rare, and _very_ expensive stolen goods which only I know the whereabouts of"

He looks at my blood stained hoodie "And they're willing to _kill_ to get them?" He asks.

I nod again. "Death is insurance to them, a way to tie up loose ends…" I pause for a moment "They'll kill me after they get what they want"

He looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time, or maybe he worries it will be the last. "We won't let that happen" he says reassuringly.

I look up at him in disbelieve "But, you don't even know me"

"Why would that matter?" He asks.

I look over to Sherlock, he knows what I'm trying to say.

He steps forward."There's something about Seren you need to know John"

"Other than the fact she's being chased by a gang?" he frowns.

"Yes…" He stops, he knows it's my story to tell.

A sigh escapes my lips "I know where these stolen things are because I helped steal them…"

"But you're just a kid." he sounds shocked.

"I know but my upbringing isn't exactly what you'd call normal"

"What do you mean?"

I look at John's confused face and hope what I'm about to tell him won't change anything.  
"I was raised by the mafia"


	4. Chapter 4

He stands there, in stunned silence, staring at me.

"John…" Sherlock tries to snap him out of it, but he won't take his eyes off me, maybe he fears I'll disappear the moment he does.

"You... you're a mobster's daughter?"

"Yes…" I say truthfully.

"But… you seem so… normal"

I laugh "That's the first I've ever been called that"

His smile returns, perhaps he doesn't see me as the monster I thought he would.

"Just to be clear an actual Mafia?"

I nod.

"gotta admit that's a new one…"

I shrug "They may have been criminals but they were my family."

"Were?"

The usually tame tempest in my head threatens to leak through my eyes in an effort to water the pain that has been seeded in my chest; it starts to bloom and scratch at my throat, I try to gulp it down.

I see Sherlock turn to me with worry etched into his face I look at him pleadingly.

"They were killed, about six months ago" He says saving me from having to utter the words.

"Jesus… I'm sorry"

I manage to nod in recognition.

"Was it the Natuk gang?" He asks Sherlock.

"No they were killed by a branch of Moriarty's web" He pauses and looks at the floor "I was too late to stop them"

"You couldn't have known what they were planning to do" I say quietly.

"But I should've…"

I snap. "They're dead Sherlock. Nothing you could have done would have prevented that, and nothing you say now is going to change that" He looks at me in stunned silence.

I sigh and turn back to John to explain "My family was the go between for all the major crime syndicates in Europe, they kept the peace and rallied them together when needed, that made them the first target for groups like Moriarty's who wanted to take over."

"They wanted to control all the crime in Europe?" He asks.

"No, they wanted to commit all the crimes in Europe" replies Sherlock.

"What do you mean?"

"They didn't want separate groups spread out over the continent, they wanted one uniformed organization who answered to them, so they would profit and have all the authority." Sherlock states.

"So what happened?"

"Sherlock dismantled 'em, with a little help mind… Well a lot of help actually, from me anyway" I say proudly.

"And the British Government" Sherlock says heading for the doorway.

"Them too." I admit.

" _Mycroft_ was involved?"

My eyes light up at the name "You know Mycroft too?"

"I never had a choice, he kidnapped me when I first moved in with Sherlock"

I laugh "You're kidding!"

"No, genuinely snatched me off the pavement"

"From what I recall you got in the car willingly" a familiar posh voice echos from the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

I turn round and see Mycroft in a grey striped three piece suit with a crimson silk tie. He leans on the bamboo handle of his umbrella.

I smile in recognition "Oi, oi umbrella boy!" he scowls at me with all the disdain he can muster.

"How many times must I ask you to not call me that?" He says exasperated.

"Until the day you stop carrying one" I grin. "Anyway where's my hug I've missed you and your damn umbrella" I step towards him as he recoils in horror.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't stain my new suit with blood thank you very much."

I stop in my tracks and smirk at him. "As you command… Umbrella _man_ "

He sighs realising that's as good as it's gonna get.

"I don't have time to argue nor greet you properly, we have to discuss what we're going to do about the _Natuk_ gang" he says seriously, which is a shame because I'm not in much of a serious mood.

" _We?_ Aw I never knew you cared so much Mycroft" I tease as he rolls his eyes.

"I have to intervene when the interests of the nation are involved" he states.

He turns to Sherlock and raises an eyebrow. "Do you know where they are?"

"They keep popping up all over London…"

"I'll take that as a no then" Mycroft sneers in deliberate attempt to press Sherlock's buttons… it seems to be working; his face twists into an annoyed grimace, either that or he's swallowed a bee. "They've expanded their business into…"

"Weapons trafficking I know" Mycroft finishes for him with an all-knowing smile.

Sensing the arrival of World War III, I decide to intervene before they verbally tear each other apart. "Mycroft if you know where they are please tell us."

He sighs knowing his fun is over.

"We have reason to believe they are operating from the East end of London, they seem to be reaching out to some local gangs who will be familiar with my little brother" he looks over to Sherlock in a condescending manner before continuing. "They'll figure out he was the one who helped you in France and then they'll come looking for you here" he finishes looking back to me.

"You mean she's not safe here?" asks John.

"I'm not safe anywhere…" I say dismissively.

He looks at me with pity mixed with fear. I know what he's thinking, he's trying to protect me, like a good doctor he wants to fix me but he can't; to do so would be like trying to glue a shattered eggshell back together, but every time you pick up a shard it breaks until all you're left with is dust. I want to tell him as much but I don't know how to phrase the words "It's true" I say instead.

He looks as if he wants to argue but Mycroft speaks over him.

"Exactly why I've arranged transport to a secure location."

I scoff "You want me to go on the run again? I've only just got here."

"You won't be _running_ anywhere…" He looks at me sternly.

"No I'll just be hiding in some godforsaken government safe house!"

He takes the role of the caring big brother "Now this doesn't need to be any more difficult than it already is…"

"She'll just go on the run again Mycroft you know what she's like" Says Sherlock.

They talk about me like I've already disappeared "I am still stood here you know…"

"Can't you just go and arrest the gang?" John suggests it like it the most obvious way to deal with an international crime syndicate, rather than the great way to get killed.

"Or not…" He murmurs dismissively after being glared at by the Holmes'.

"Actually, John has a point why haven't you gone barging in like you usually do with foreign policy's?" I say after remembering being witness to an unfortunate meeting with a foreign French official.

"I do not 'barge' in anywhere…"

"Oh they have something you need, but you don't know where it is, so you're waiting for them to lead you to it..." Sherlock says, relishing being a head up on his brother.

"Yes well…"

"What is it?" I ask.

For a moment there is a crack in his armour and he looks flustered, I blink and it's gone.

"What you need what is it? Information?" I prod again.

"Plans that involve the safety of the nation" He replies.

"You think they're supplying weapons for an attack?" John asks stepping forward.

"Yes but we aren't aware of where, yet" he admits solemnly.

"I can help you find them" I state blankly.

"How?" He asks.

I open my arms, palms facing forward, as if in surrender. "They want me, they can have me…"


End file.
